


Devoted

by Fyre



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda Hamilton loved her husband very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devoted

**Author's Note:**

> My head-canon for Miranda/Thomas is that they did love one another, but it was also partially a marriage of convenience, because he always had preferred men. Miranda, meanwhile, had needs and Thomas was happy to let her get what she needed elsewhere.

Thomas was in a pensive mood.

Not that it was entirely unusual, but this was very different. 

Miranda turned a page of her book, and glanced over at him. He was gazing into the fire, tapping his knuckle against his lower lip, no doubt cogitating on some great matter that would change the world.

She laid the book down in her lap. “Is something troubling you?”

Thomas looked up, surprised, as if he hadn’t even realised she was still there. “Me? No, not at all, my dear. Just mulling on what Lieutenant McGraw had to say.”

Miranda smiled. “It was clearly something very interesting to have you wool-gathering for so long.” She set her book aside. “Dare I ask?”

“I was thinking on his directness,” Thomas admitted. “There is no hesitation, no shilly-shallying about his views. If he believes a plan is destined to fail, he will say so, even though he knows it could cost him this posting.”

“An admirable quality,” she agreed. Too often, they had people sniffing around their hems for scraps of approval and support. It grew tiresome to have people who would all but worship you to your face, but would then spit your name behind your back. “He seems a very forthright man.”

“Yes.” There was a touch of a smile on his lips. “He answers back, you know, quite impudently, but never with malice.”

Miranda laughed. “Witty and handsome. Whatever shall we do with him?”

He met her eyes. “You think him handsome?”

She shrugged prettily. Her husband knew her well enough to recognise when she had a true interest and when she was merely admiring the physical beauty of a man. Occasionally, she would indulge her pleasures, but lately, there had been none to her tastes.

One side of his mouth turned up. “Well, don’t scare the poor fellow off. I still need to make use of him.”

Miranda smiled, feeling the pleasant warmth in the pit of her belly. She rose from the chair and crossed the floor to lean down and kiss Thomas softly on the lips. “I will act with the utmost decorum.”

He slid an arm around her waist, drawing her down to perch on his lap. “I sincerely hope not.” He smiled up at her as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s been far too long.”

She studied him, her darling, generous husband. “And what of you? Do you find him handsome?”

He held her gaze for a moment. “I find him… compelling. That will suffice for now.”

She leaned down and kissed him again, as gentle and chaste as ever. “For now,” she agreed.

 

______________________________________

 

It was a dull day, but there was plenty to occupy a lady of many interests.

Miranda tapped lightly on the door of Thomas’s study.

He had meetings to attend at Parliament, which naturally meant he had been up since the first bells to be sure everything was in order. 

“Come!” 

She opened the door just enough to look in on him. “Will you be home for dinner?”

Thomas glanced up distractedly, then paused with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing. You look remarkably well for so early in the morning.” He set down his pen. “I expect you have something to divert the Lieutenant’s attentions?”

He knew her all too well and she smiled. “If I am not enough, the Greys have invited me to view some of their Egyptian collection.”

She could see the approval in his expression. “I’m sure he would be delighted to see it.”

“But with me alone?” She raised her eyebrows. “I would wager you a shilling that he becomes flustered and insists on good manners and decorum prevailing.”

Thomas laughed warmly. “If he has eyes in his head, with you looking as you look? I sincerely doubt that, my dear.” He offered her his hand, and she crossed the room, slipping her fingers between his. “He is a passionate man. I have no doubt you can inflame those passions quite readily. I have seen the way he looks at you.”

There was a hint of longing in his voice, and not for the first time, Miranda wished there was some way to offer him some of the happiness he had afforded her. He loved her in every way but the physical, and while she could find solace with another, for him, it was much more difficult.

She sat down on the edge of the desk. “I am not the one who spends hours closeted with you in your shirtsleeves, Thomas,” she murmured. “He looks at you too. He smiles for you. You can hardly tell me you have not noticed.”

“Yes,” Thomas sighed, stroking his thumb along the back of her fingers. “With amusement, exasperation, disbelief.” He lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “I fear this ball is entirely for your court.”

“Well, then…” She unfurled one finger to brush along his lower lip. “If you win the wager, I’ll share some little of it with you.”

The colour warmed his cheeks at once. Sometimes, very rarely, their tastes intersected, and when they did, Thomas took pleasure in hearing of her conquests. “Well, I had better hope I win that shilling from you.”

She smiled, leaning down to kiss him. “Do try not to offend anyone while you are in session this time, hm?”

“Better to say good luck,” he replied, smiling. “To both of us.”

She laughed. “Indeed.”

 

_____________________________________________

 

It was late when Thomas returned, so much so that she was already abed. 

A candle was burning on the cabinet beside the bed, and she set aside her book, one recommended by James himself. Thomas waved his man away, and closed the door after him himself. 

“Did you make anyone cross today?” she inquired, smiling. “You had plenty of time to do so.”

He turned to face her and looked so spent that she immediately pushed back the covers of the bed, inviting him in. “I swear they would argue black was white out of sheer bull-headedness and petty spite.”

“You have known politicians your whole life,” she said, as he slipped into the bed beside her. She drew the blankets back over him, moving her legs to brush her warm feet against his colder ones. “I daresay it comes as no real surprise.”

He sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “No, indeed.” He tilted his head to look at her. “And you? How did you enjoy the Greys’ collection?”

In reply, she only smiled and held out a shilling to him.

Thomas’s eyes lit up in amused pleasure. “I told you so.”

Miranda could scarcely stifle a girlish giggle. “I almost won,” she said, teasing her foot along his. “He was quite mortified when I arrived at his door.” She leaned a little closer to whisper by his ear. “I suspect he may sleep entirely unclothed.”

Thomas’s breathing hitched. “And how did you learn this?”

She propped her chin on his shoulder, smiling innocently. “He had on only his breeches when I knocked at his door.” She bit her lower lip, and had to hide the growing smile in her husband’s shoulder.

From the look on Thomas’s face that was an image he very much could appreciate.

“And yet, you almost won?” Thomas’s voice was a shade deeper, and she could hear the familiar hunger. 

“Mm.” She nuzzled at his neck. “He had me back out to the carriage and was set on bringing me home at once. Decorum. Propriety. Manners.”

“And then?”

She whispered softly, “I teased him.”

She heard the way Thomas’s breath caught. “And then?”

“And then, he kissed me. Cautiously, as if I were made of porcelain. Gently.” She spread her hand on Thomas’s chest, unsurprised to feel his heart racing. “He was holding himself in check, as you knew he would.”

“Yes?”

“Mm.” She moved her lips closer to his ear. “He was breathing as hard as you are now, and his eyes were on mine. I thought I might burn up and he wanted it as much as I.” Her fingers slowly started drifting down the front of Thomas’s nightshirt. “I let him lift my skirts. You have seen his hands… Lord, those hands… rough and callused upon my skin…”

She hooked her fingers against Thomas’s belly, dragging her nails down, and felt him shudder. A glance told her his eyes were closed, and she could see the colour in his cheeks already, the way his lips were parted.

“He had me upon him,” she continued, lips brushing Thomas’s ear. “When he knows what he wants, he will take it. He touches without fear when he knows it is welcome. He wrapped his hands about my thighs, lifted me bodily… Jesu, Thomas, he could raise me to the wall if he so wished…”

Thomas’s hand covered hers, guiding it downward. Miranda’s heart leapt. For him to be so eager, he had to desire James nearly as much as she did. She slipped her hand under his nightshirt, pushing it up over his thighs.

“His fingers were rough,” she whispered, mimicking James’s heated touch on her skin. “I swear I will have bruises come morning.” She curved her hand, cupped his manhood, already hard against her palm. “He would squeeze you so firmly.”

Thomas made a strangled sound as she closed her hand tight around him, dragging down slowly.

“He would keep his eyes on you every moment,” she confided breathlessly. “As if seeing your pleasure is his desire, as if watching you come apart for him was what he sought.”

Thomas caught her wrist. “Quickly,” he panted. “With me.”

Miranda pushed the covers aside at once, dragging up her own nightdress. She did not need to reach down. The mere thought of her afternoon with the Lieutenant had quite warmed her already. She knelt over her husband and lowered her body to meet his. 

It would not last long. It never did, not out of lack of desire on her part. 

Thomas wrapped his arms around her waist as she moved over him. This was her domain, she knew, but while he chose to enter, she would welcome him. “You could have him like this,” she panted, kneading at his shoulders. “Let him be atop you, or if you pleased, you atop him.”

His eyes were closed now, and she knew he would be picturing it. He lowered his head, burying his face on her shoulder, and she could feel his fingers clutching at her back. “Did he speak?” he asked hoarsely. 

“Oh yes,” she gasped against his ear, moving her body more urgently. “Filthy words. Not of me, but yes…” She caught his earlobe between her teeth, then whispered raggedly, “Fuck…”

He moved so suddenly she did not expect it, and all at once was on her back on the bed, her husband over her for the first time since their wedding night. “Say it again,” he panted, pulling her legs up about him.

She laughed in breathless delight. “Fuck. Fuck me…”

He pressed himself so deep against her that her mind was quite reeling, and all thought of words went out of her mind. Instead, she only raked at his back and pulled her legs tighter around him, as firm-handed to him as James had been to her. 

When he spent himself, she scarcely noticed, already in a blissful daze. The pleasant warmth of his weight atop her was a pleasure she had missed. With one hand, she smoothed his hair, and with the other, tugged his nightshirt down a little.

He was still breathing hard, raw, against her throat.

“Forgive me,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “That was… uncalled for.”

She gently guided his head up enough for him to see her smile. “It was entirely called for, my darling,” she murmured and kissed him. The relief that crossed his face broke her heart, and she gently stroked his cheek. “I had no idea you wanted him so.”

He smiled self-consciously. “Neither had I.”

Her fingertip traced his lower lip. “Perhaps you should let him know.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. “No.” He lifted himself off her, rolling back onto his side of the bed. He ran a hand over his forehead and looked up at the canopy. “No, I cannot press my affections. Even if he were interested, he would risk his career and his life for it, and I cannot allow that.”

Miranda stared at him. 

There had been men before. Discreetly done, once in a while, but Thomas had never felt the need to give their livelihoods consideration before.

“You are fond of him,” she said quietly. “This isn’t merely desire, is it?”

He tilted his head to look at her and laughed a little sadly. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

She wanted to weep for both of them, and could only lean over to kiss his cheek, then his lips softly. “It ought to be our crest.” She wrapped her arm over his chest, and he clasped her hand in his. “I should have seen it. If you wish me to stop my relationship…”

“No!” The vehemence in his tone startled her. “No. Not at all. We can take what pleasure he will share with us, you in sharing a bed, and I in our business together. It will be well.”

She kissed his shoulder. “I love you, Thomas,” she said softly. “You do know that, don’t you?”

He nodded. “And I you.”

She rested her cheek against his shoulder, knowing it could never be enough.

 

_________________________________________

 

To her knowledge, nothing had happened between Thomas and James.

They spent as much time together as ever, poring over ideas and notes regarding Nassau, spending hours closed up in the study, drinking together in the parlour. James attended the salon religiously now as well, speaking eloquently and listening eagerly. 

For Miranda, that was only confirmation of what she had suspected for weeks, if not months: Thomas wove a powerful spell without realising it. James had been caught in his thrall, and now, they were both circling, never quite touching.

It felt like they were teetering at the edge of a precipice.

Something was going to give their world a push.

It was just unfortunate that it had to be Thomas’s father. 

Many years ago, when she had been presented to Thomas, his father had deemed her a suitable candidate. The usual discussions happened, outwith her hearing: money and dowries and rank and the like. It wasn’t quite a love-match, not at first, but they had talked and they had laughed, and all at once, there was love where there hadn’t been any before. 

the Earl had not been pleased to learn that his son had found a like-minded wife. He had been even less-pleased to discover their if he considered his son’s bachelorhood unconventional, then his son’s marriage was even more so.

Mercifully, they seldom saw him unless it was absolutely necessary, and when she could, Miranda made sure she was unavailable. It was not out of fear of the man. It was simply that he could stir her to such anger, that it would take hours for Thomas to calm her, and it always upset him far more than it upset her.

Tonight, it was unavoidable.

James looked as on edge as she felt herself, and it was no surprise that the Earl was his usual abrasive self on arrival. She could see the condescension in his eyes, and chose to ignore it for the sake of peace over the dinner table.

It only lasted as long as it took for the Earl to turn to the subject of his visit: Thomas and James’s plans for Nassau. She kept her eyes on her plate, but could feel the tension in the room rising by the moment.

Poor James, seated opposite her, was keeping a politic silence, but when she risked a glance his way, she could see the tension in his body. He was too well-trained in holding himself aloof to say anything untoward, and she could only pray it would last.

Not for the first time, Thomas and his father’s voices were raised, and once more, the Earl tried to drag James into the debate, no doubt knowing full well that as a naval man, he would not be able to support Thomas’s plan, if he wished to retain the respect and support of the Admiralty. 

Miranda knew Thomas would be devastated if James denied him, yet James had no choice in the matter for the sake of his career. 

For both their sakes, she tried to cut in on James’s behalf, to save him the embarrassment, but The Earl turned on her. She sank back as if he had struck her, unable to look at either her husband or her lover. It was one thing to have strangers mutter of it, but to be called a whore by her father-in-law was like a blow.

What she - nor Thomas, from the look on his face - did not expect was James to leap to his feet on the defensive. When he snarled at the Earl, there was something dangerous in his eyes, a fearsome protectiveness. And when he declared himself supporting Thomas and his plans in their entirety, Miranda felt the world shift beneath her.

She darted a look at Thomas, and she could recognise the heat in his eyes.

When James all but ordered the Earl to leave, she wished she had the voice to stop him. She knew the Earl. She knew how spiteful and brutal and dangerous he could be, but James had made his opinion clear now. In opposing the Earl, he had created for himself a formidable and dangerous enemy.

Thomas knew it too. He said so.

That was when they were pushed over the edge of that precipice, for James looked at Thomas, and in a voice thick with emotion said, “People can say what they like, but you’re a good man. More people should say that, and someone should be willing to defend it.”

She didn’t know what she had expected.

Perhaps she had assumed it would simply be the manner of affection James always showed her, playful, witty, and sensuous. She had never imagined that he would lay his career and his very life on the line, not for desire.

But this wasn’t just desire.

She had known that for Thomas, but for James…

James gave his affection to her freely, but to Thomas, he gave everything.

She could only watch, as the two men she loved looked at one another with a passion she had never drawn from either. And she wished, oh God, how she wished, she could smile, for now Thomas could have some semblance of her happiness, but it felt impossible when her heart was breaking.

 

_______________________________________________

 

It was going to be a beautiful day.

The early morning light was casting a golden haze over the river, which showed the promise of clearing soon.

Miranda shivered, drawing her robe closer around her.

She had slept alone last night.

It was not the first time, but it was the first time she had truly felt alone.

When the salon had broken up, she had remained long enough to join in the discussions with Lord Peter. When he departed, she made noises about being tired and withdrew to her bedchamber. Where her husband and her lover went after that, she did not know. She only knew she closed the door and sank to sit at the foot, her eyes brimming over with stupid, selfish tears.

She had no right, not when she loved them both, and yet to see them look at one another as they had, to know that in that moment, they saw and cared about no one else, was more painful than she had expected.

Her sleep was broken and fragmented, and she finally gave up, rising from her lonely bed to watch the dawn breaking.

She was still sitting there when the door opened, and turned to see Thomas in the doorway, looking as bashful as a schoolboy. He was smiling, soft and warm and foolish, and for a moment, she could smile truly in response.

Words failed her, and she offered her hand to him.

He closed the door and crossed the floor. His fingers scooped hers up and he lifted them to his lips, kissing them warmly.

Her cheeks hurt from the effort of smiling. “Am I to assume you had a pleasant evening?” she asked, surprising herself with how even her voice was.

He blushed, ducking his head, and his smile grew even more. “I did.”

Had it been any other time, any other man, she knew she would have teased him mercilessly for it. After all, that was what a loving friend did.

Instead, she did the only thing she could, pulling him closer by the hand and embracing him as he had so often embraced her in the past. “I’m glad,” she whispered, wishing it was the whole truth. “I’m glad you are happy.”

He pressed his lips to her hair and held her warmly. “I am so very lucky,” he replied softly, “to have such a wonderful wife.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her quickly. “Will you join us for breakfast?”

The smile came more easily now, still painful. “Of course. I’ll join you in a moment.”

He smiled so brightly that she had to look away, and he darted back across the room and out into the halls, closing the door behind him.

She looked at her reflection in the window pane.

It was only natural, she thought, to envy that which you have never had.


End file.
